Two Of A Kind
by firelight-27
Summary: Pitch Black. There is someone extra aboard the ship that crashes into the lethal planet. Erica's past is shrouded, her memories forgotten. Riddick seems so familiar to her...they are a pair with their exceptional skills and their heightened senses....but
1. Rude Awakenings

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Yeah so, I want LOTS of reviews! Bad or good, whatever! I'm trying to keep Riddick in character. If you've seen the sequel to Pitch Black then you know that his character is more expansive than originally portrayed in this film, so I've got a bit more space to work with. I know Erica asks alot of questions in her head. She is way, WAY confused though and I want people not to miss whats going on in her head. Anyway let me know what you think!

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Flashing lights. It was the first thing Erica knew. Red, blood red, and pulsing. The type of lights that flash a warning, signaling iminent doom. The lurching of the ship was what brought her awake, and in the bleary dream world of one who is being jerked into consciousness, it seemed a confused jumble of light and sound. Or lack of sound thereof. As her glazed eyes adjusted, she realized she was locked in a tight chamber that forced her to stand upright in a most uncomfortable manner. A hydrosleep chamber. She was a passenger, she remembered suddenly. But from where, and where was she going? She couldn't remember. Why? Because she had lost her memory, lost it in some terrible accident. She was being sent to a medical facility somewhere in the deep reaches of space, to see if this problem could be corrected. By whom? Who was sending her? She didn't know. Someone who knew her, who was very wealthy, who could afford such an advanced treatment.

Why couldn't she hear anything? Her flailing mind grasped onto the situation at hand, blotting out the confused jumble of her life's circumstances for the time being. The chambers were designed to block out sound. A sudden high-pitched blaring noise sounded shrilly in her ear, causing her to cringe. What was it? The chamber's own built in alarm system. A display panel appeared suddenly before her, a type of holographic reflection on the clear plastic of her enclosure. Beyond that all she could make out was the metallic interior of the ship, and the wild flashing of the emergency lights. Her chamber had registered her leap into consciousness and was promptly informing her of the situation outside of the man-made cocoon.

UNSCHEDULED AWAKENING, it glowed in electric blue. SEARCHING FOR CAUSE OF THIS ERROR.....NONE FOUND.....SUBJECT RESISTANT TO HYDRO AGENT.....Erica frowned. What? Had she fought the sleeping gases that ensured her peaceful slumber as her body felt the turmoil of the spacecraft she was flying in? Was that even possible? ABORTING INVESTIGATION, the screened flashed, EMERGENCY TAKES PRECIDENCE. Emergency? Had they been hit by something? STATUS: FORWARD HULL PENETRATED, AIR LEAK. ENGINES NON-RESPONSIVE. TRAPPED IN GRAVITATIONAL PULL. Pull towards what? A planet? Were they crashing? CASULTIES: CAPTAIN .

The letters faded from the screen and there was a sharp hiss as her enclosure opened up. The captain is dead? The thought barely had time to form in her mind as she was hurtled head first onto the hard metal floor of the ship's interior. Her eyes darted left and right as she lay sprawled on the ground, her head aching terribly. It seemed the world around her trembled and shook as if in preparation to explode violently. She noted that the rest of the passengers still slept while she attempted to focus on her surroundings. She could see their expressionless faces lining the walls, each engulfed in an eerie red glow. The large laser proof doors seperating the passenger area from that of the crew was tightly sealed. She could only hope the crew was awake and aware of their dire situation...hell, she just hoped they were still alive.

Resolutely she ignored the throbbing of her temples and began to push herself up. Suddenly there was a loud whistling noise, and several bits of debris shot through the air above her head, penetrating the hull and disappearing out into space. Erica felt like screaming. Her life had been sustained by mere inches. What the hell was going on? The ship lurched again as she struggled to regain her feet, and she staggered sideways, crashing hard against something near the rear of the room. Gasping for breath she splayed her fingers on the slick, cool surface of the large obstacle and, still confused, turned her eyes upon it. Someone stared back. She would have shrieked and flung herself back across the cabin, and was in the process of doing so, when another sharp change in the ship's trajectory caused her to roll across the plexiglass front of the sleeping chamber. She clutched at the edge, an extreme amount of sudden gravity attempting to flatten her to the life containing box. She risked another look, the turning of her neck a huge effort as if a heavy weight were pressing down against her, intending to crush the very life from her body.

There was what appeared to be a man within, a large, powerfully built man with a shaven head and eery black goggles drawn down over his eyes. It gave the appearance of a fierce gaze, though there was no way she could tell if he was in fact even conscious. Who was this? She fought to dredge up the memory, at the same time struggling to draw breath through tortured lungs. Among the passengers was a miner woman, a young boy, a holy man, an arrogant man who appeared to be an officer of some sort.....who was transporting her......and this was....she had listened, had stored the information in her memory banks...he had been residing on the same planet as she....had been taken aboard......a convict! She remembered his identity with sudden regret. The stress of being pressed up against this beast's holding cell with a thin sheet of transparent material seperating them didn't help to put her at ease. A convict, a murderer, escaped from some terrible slam. On his way back. Who had captured him? Johns, that was it. And Johns was.....the cop. How many people had he murdered? Shit...too many. Highly dangerous. They had all been warned to stay far away from him. Riddick. The name flashed through her mind. The bold warning scrawled across the front of his enclosure read: WARNING, NOT FOR EARLY RELEASE. Super. There were chains and thick cables shackling his muscular arms, and some sort of strange bit-like device was wedged in his mouth and strapped firmly about his bald head. This all made him even more menacing.

Her heart pounding, Erica stared through the plexiglass, eyes locked on the lenses of the alien-looking goggles. Another swift change of direction peeled her back from the container and sent her flying backwards, the crushing gravity releasing her from it's monstrous grip. Another sleeping chamber caught her in the left shoulder and she cried out as the impact sent her spinning towards a support beam. Her back slammed hard into the metal, knocking the wind out of her, and then she felt a terrible pain shoot through her leg like fire. A jagged piece of rebar had pierced her left thigh and she was now pinned, blood gushing from the fresh wound. Sleeping chambers began to pop open and passengers to roll out in a jumbled heap as the artificial air became sparse in the small area. There was a horrible crunching sound, the sound of the ship's metal skin being rended from its steel skeleton and then the frantic and confused cries of the other passengers. Erica knew nothing more after that.


	2. First Encounters Or Not?

She was alive. Alive, but unable to open her aching eyes. It took her more than a few agonizing moments to regain her bearings. Somehow, in the impact, Erica had been torn from her position, and the rebar had come with her. She realized this as she attempted to move her heavy limbs. The jagged piece of metal scraped the ground and made her whimper in pain. She was laying atop something solid, but soft at the same time. At least softer than the hard metal of the cabin's floor. She could feel small movements beneath her, a steady rise and fall. It was alive! She forced her eyelids to open, and stared down at who lay beneath her. That same face that had terrorized her earlier stared back. Riddick. His goggles sat askew on his forehead, revealing closed eyes.

She barely dared to breath, and her thoughts were torn between the agony of her injured extremity and the sickening fear that knotted her stomach. Yet the immensly strong and dangerous criminal made no move to discard her, in fact he made no move at all. He wasn't dead. Dead men didn't breath. But unconscious? She hoped with all her might he would remain that way until someone found her, until someone could help her, could alleviate her horrible pain, could secure him in some way, shape, or form. She could only imagine the torture it would be if he woke and decided to shove her roughly aside, causing more damage to her torn muscle. Her heart hammered out of control in her chest, her breathing quick and ragged, though she fought to control both reactions. What if no one else had survived? Would he just kill her? Leave her?

Her lower lip began to quiver and she bit it, her teeth pressing down so hard on the flesh as to draw blood. She could taste it's saltiness on her tongue. Perhaps moving would be the best option, she thought. Carefully, she must move carefully. Her arms were folded underneath her, her hands flat on his broad chest. Slowly, and drawing on her last reserves of strength, she pushed against his still body, lifting away from him.

She had only begun to shift her weight when he stirred. She froze, panic flooding her entire body, filling every nerve in her being. All she could do was stare, wide-eyed, as the convict known as Riddick began to awaken. It seemed to happen all at once. His eyes flew open in an instant, revealing dark pools of black that contained an eerie glow that shone out of their depths like a beacon. Like a predator. But he did not move in any other way. He didn't try to sit up, to roll her off of him or anything of the sort. Erica didn't know what to do, what to say. The paralysis that gripped her she managed to shatter like a layer of ice. "Please," she whimpered, her tone begging him not to fling her about, not to kill her, and to help her, though the thought was more desperate than hopeful. She noticed suddenly that tears dampened her cheecks and she attempted to blink them away. Something inside her demanded that she master her fear and toughen up, something akin to a warrior's instinct. She hadn't the slightest clue where it came from. Riddick said nothing, but stared at her for a tense moment and then his jaguar's eyes shifted, and she knew he saw the thin metal pole that protruded from her flesh.

In the next second he had begun to move, surprising her as he enclosed her waist with his powerful arms. Before she knew what was happening he had rolled onto his side and was lunging to his feet, carrying her limp body with him. The movement was so swift and fluid that she barely knew what had happened, the aching pain in her leg none the worse for the action. And here she was, dangling in this stranger's arms, this alien looking murderer. For another moment he stared at her, seeming to consider the woman he held, and then he surveyed the area about him. It took him mere seconds to make a decision. Holding her tightly to his side with one arm, he began to move through the wreckage, pushing through debris with ease.

What was he doing? she wondered frantically, but she wasn't about to disallow the aid, whether aiding her was what he intended or not. Once or twice the rebar that was currently a part of her being brushed against some stationary obstacle and she would gasp sharply, gritting her teeth against the tears that threatened to spring forth, but for the most part Riddick kept her from suffering. Not that he intended it, but that he moved with grace and surety. And then they were outside and Erica blinked, squinting against the sudden harsh light that attacked her sensitive eyes. Riddick threw his free arm up to shield his face, grasping the strange goggles that straddled his forehead quickly and pulling them down over the glowing lights that were his own orbs. They were in a desert, a vast neverending desert with an enormous sun shining down upon them. Where in the hell had they landed?

In the next instant Erica was down on the ground and the escaped convict was grasping the jagged metal that protruded from her thigh. He looked into her startled eyes as if to prepare her for what he was about to do and then reached out to cover her mouth roughly with one large hand. He pulled. It was swift and clean....and agonizingly painful. This time Erica couldn't stop the salty drops that welled up and streamed down her face. She gritted her teeth and would have cried out. It came out as a muffled whimper against his callused palm. As this seemingly benevolent criminal tore a strip from her tank top and began to tie it tightly about her wounded leg she bit down on her tongue, focusing on this new sharp pain to take her mind off of the injury. Her tear filled eyes watched him as he focused on the task, knotting the make-shift bandage.

"Why?" she asked in a hushed tone barely above a whisper. He stopped, still for a moment.

"Hostage," he said simply, the first word he had spoken. Erica was shocked. Firstly by the word, by his intentions. This was why he had been so kind to her, so helpful? She was to be a hostage? For what purpose? To keep Johns at bay? Did this Riddick even know if Johns had survived the crash? Secondly, and some might not think that this should be of consequence in a dire situation such as this, was his voice. It was deep, deep and rough and at the same time very sensual. And at any other time, and if he had been anyone else, it might have made her knees weak and her heart flutter. But the main thing was that....it was familiar.

And then her survival instinct kicked in. Would he kill her? She had no way of knowing what would happen to her if she allowed him to drag her along as a captive. No, she couldn't let that happen. There were other survivors. There had to be if he was taking her hostage. Johns. Johns was alive. Who else would he need to keep at bay. Riddick knew he had survived, could sense it somehow, like an animal. She was money to Johns, she knew it. Riddick knew it. He was intelligent, it shone on his face. She remembered. She knew he was a cunning creature. But how? How did she know? She roughly shoved the questions from her mind. Her attention must focus on the here and now.

Her benefactor had paid Johns well to transport her. He would tread lightly to keep his merchandise alive and healthy. She needed to be with Johns, Johns could give her her memory. Could Riddick give her that? She paused, staring at him, a dark silhouette against the brightness of the blazing sun. Could he? A spark of remembrance lit in her eyes, but then died just as quickly. She blinked them. No, he would bring her death. He was a convict, a murderer. She must remember that.

He was still crouched down near her, looking out over the desert sands as if calculating his next move. It was her chance. Rolling her weight onto her right hip, she struck out with her good leg, using her arms for balance. The movement was swift and clean, surprising her. How had she learned that type of manuever? How was she so fast? But Riddick was prepared, ducking out of the way. How had he known she would try something like that? She rolled backwards as he moved to pin her, springing to her feet with the grace of a gazelle, balancing easily on one leg.

Riddick smirked slightly. Erica furrowed her brows. He found this funny? And then her anger boiled. I'll show him funny, she thought, diving sideways to grasp a sharp piece of loose scrap metal that dangled awkwardly from the ceiling of the mangled craft. The immensily strong convict moved easily to meet her. She drew up short, intending to leap to the side in a counter manuever, her years of training that had taken place in her clouded past coming into play. Her right foot came down on the steel floor, her wounded muscles giving way. She stumbled.

Erica cried out in pain as she toppled forward into her captor, grasping his muscular arms to keep from collapsing to the ground. He stood as still as a statue, looking down at her through his dark goggles.

"I wouldn't advise trying that again," he cautioned her, a hint of dark humour in his voice. She glared up at him, angry and flustered at the same moment. Her hands came up to his chest in preparation to push away violently, but his arms were around her in that instant, holding her in a vice like grip. "Temper, temper," he said, in that same low voice. This whole ordeal seemed to amuse him to no end. He was smirking now. They were close, too close for her comfort.

She attempted to push away once more, struggling in his arms like a butterfly against the crushing jaws of the spider. Heat radiated outward from his body, from his rock hard muscles. He felt like thinly padded steel to Erica, and she attemtped to push away the sudden attraction that berated her senses. His breath was in her hair. She felt her anger melting into a mixture of fear and a feeling she coudln't place. She shivered unknowingly. And then he laughed, every so slightly, and bent his head to whisper in her ear. She tensed, her breath catching in her throat.

"You're better off with me than Johns," he said, his words barely audible, "you really think he's a do good merc? There is no such thing." He spun her in one quick motion so that he now held her back to him, so fast that she gasped in surprise. "You are just a piece of merchandise," he whispered, his lips actually brushing the skin at the nape of her neck. Goosebumps rose on her flesh, though she was unsure if they were pleasant or otherwise. He seemed to be waiting, for her to say something, for a response, she didn't know. Her mouth worked to reply but nothing came out. It was as if he had trapped her with his words, his voice, his actions. Finally, after a few tense moments, she managed to croak out a response.

"You're a murderer," she mumbled, and it was barely intelligible. Riddick understood. He released her all at once and Erica nearly fell flat on her face. Somehow she managed to keep her feet, spinning around to face him and limping back a few steps.

"Have I killed a few people? Yes," he said in that deep, rumbling voice, "Will I kill you?," he paused to look her up and down, not a sexual gesture but a calculating gaze, as if gauging her strength and abilities, almost as if he were boring into her very being to judge her soul. "It depends." The statement didn't make her feel any better.

You mean if I become an inconvenience, a threat? she thought, a combination of fear and anger knotting her stomach. There was a sound then, a metallic thump, and both Riddick and Erica turned their heads to follow it. The burly convict seemed to consider her for a moment, and then his gaze swivelled once more toward the source of the noise. It only took him a moment to make his decision. Before she could blink, Riddick had slipped away into the recesses of the wreckage. She slumped down on the floor in exhaustion and relief. Her leg ached more terribly than ever, but she fought to ignore it.


	3. Hostage Situation

"Over here!" she croaked out, letting her head roll limply back against what remained of the ship's metal skin. She felt worn and tattered and exceptionally weak. It bothered her to be so vulnerable. She felt the need to be prepared, on edge, to be able to react swiftly and with strength at any moment day or night. Damn, she thought with an inward sigh of frustration, what the hell had she been? She allowed her aching eyelids to slide closed, awaiting her rescuers wearily. There was more noise, the heavy thud of boots making their way across the floor and the scraping of metal against metal as debris was pushed aside.

Her eyes opened as a young boy appeared from within the dim interior of the wreckage. A boy or a girl? She couldn't decide, squinting in an attempt to make a clearer assesment. As the child came closer she decided that it was indeed a male, noting the boyish clothing and the close cropped hair. He hurredly knelt beside her, placing a grimy hand upon her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asked, worry evident in his voice. His face seemed taught with anxiety. This entire ordeal must be harrowing for him, she realized. She didn't imagine that he had ever experienced something like this before.

"I'm alive aren't I?" she replied, forcing a smile. He sighed with relief, returning a tense grin, and then his eyes caught sight of the blood stained bandages wrapped about her injured thigh and they widened. Just then another survivor appeared on the scene and the boy turned his head as he entered.

The tall thin man seemed utterly confused as he stepped into the light, pushing his dusty glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he looked around. The boy quickly ran over to grab his arm. "Over here," he said urgently, dragging the dazed passenger towards Erica. He looked down at the child and then his gaze lit upon Erica. He blinked, seeming to come out of his stupor.

"Dear me," he said, kneeling by her side and reaching up to remove his spectacles. He wiped them off with a corner of his tunic, managing to smear the lenses with grease. As he slipped them on he spotted the crude bandages that were soaked in crimson blood. He blanched. "W..well," he stammered, trying to get a handle on the situation, "that doesn't look too terribly good." When he spoke it was with a distinct English accent. Erica guessed, by his appearance, that he was the scholarly type. He smiled wanly at her. "I'm Sydney," he offered, waiting for a response. Erica raised an eyebrow and his falsely pleasant mask faltered.

"Erica," she said after a drawn out pause, and his drooping smile quickly reasserted itself. Lets all pretend we are one big happy family, she thought sarcastically of his mental strategy. If it was how he dealt, it was how he dealt. He reached out then.

"Lets have a look see shall we?" he asked as his knobby hands reached out towards her bloody thigh.

"No!" she spat sharply. He flinched in surprise, drawing back. The boy stared in confusion. Though she admired his willingness to assist despite his obvious adversion to blood, she would not allow it. Her stare was hard. "No," she said again, this time more quietly but no less sternly. The befuddled Englishman seemed to collect his scattered thoughts and was about to open his mouth when a woman broke suddenly from the dark shadows of the inner hold.

"Captain!" the boy called out urgently, forgetting the awkward moment in favor of turning to a more competent person. An uncomfortable expression spread across the woman's face, as if she wasn't crazy about the title. Erica's eyes narrowed. Her reaction had been strange somehow.....But she pushed the sudden suspicion from her mind as the woman, Carolyn if Erica remembered correctly, caught sight of her and strode over to join the boy.

"I'm not your captian," she snapped shortly before bending over to examine the wound. She looked up into Erica's dirt-streaked face. "Is the only place you're hurt?" she asked, beginning to peel back the make-shift dressing. Erica nodded shortly, her eyes on Carolyn's swiftly moving hands. It seemed as if she were adept at bandaging wounds. Erica knew that crew members on a ship such as this were required to have undergone somewhat extensive training in the art of medical treatment. It seemed as if being busy kept Carolyn stable during a stressful situation as she was extremely focused on the task. She instructed the boy to run back into the hold and dig out the medical supplies if there was anything salvagable left. Sydney seemed to have slipped back into his distracted state, surveying the mangled wreck and mumbling to himself.

"Are we the only survivors?" Erica asked, watching as Carolyn began applying a proper bandage which the child had produced.

She didn't look up from her work as she replied. "I'm not sure," she stated.

As if on cue, Johns appeared directly behind Carolyn. He seemed to disregard the others, his eyes settling on Erica. "You okay?" he asked, causing Carolyn to jump. She turned her head to look up at him.

"She's fine," she replied before Erica could respond, "she won't be able to support weight on her leg, but she isn't in any mortal danger." She noted that Carolyn knew who John's was worried about. This shed some light on his character. Of course he was more concerned about his merchandise, and not about anyone else.But she had known that he wasn't "a do good merc" as Riddick had phrased it. She felt her heart sink and mentally slapped herself. How foolish of her to hope otherwise. Did Carolyn know that he wasn't an officer as he led people to believe? She doubted it.

As soon as Johns was assured that his merchandise was in one piece, he slipped back into the recesses of the ship, no doubt to hunt for Riddick. Erica glared after him. She hoped he didn't find him. She frowned. Although she found Johns extremely distasteful, she realized that she needed him. He was the key to unlocking her memories. She couldn't help but sigh exasperatedly.

As Carolyn finished up her patch job, the small group assembled heard a loud commotion. By now, the miner woman Erica remembered seeing had appeared, as well as her partner and a holy man with his disciples. The battered survivors watched as a pair immerged from the gloom. Riddick came first, melting from shadow into reality, and everyone scrambled back in fear. Erica stared up at him from her seat on the floor. After their close encounter, he didn't seem so menacing to her. She even managed a smirk. So, the great muderer had been taken had he? Johns was close behind, prodding the bound criminal along. He struck out with a booted foot and caught Riddick in the back of a knee. The giant man went down into a kneeling position with a metallic thud. He didn't struggle nor did he make a sound. This only served to intensify his dangerous aura.

As John's secured his captive to one of the few remaining support beams, the entire party of survivors watched, transfixed. All but Erica. She was busy examining Carolyn's handywork in a disinterested fashion. Johns turned on the group and set his jaw, a stern look plastered across his face. "Everyone stays away from him you understand? Don't try to talk to him," his gaze fixed on the young boy, "he is a dangerous criminal." He swept the room with his eyes. No one seemed to have a problem with his wishes.

Carolyn stared over the mercenary's shoulder with a fearful curiousity before nodding her head. "Right," she agreed in a firm, decisive tone. Heads around the cabin mirrored the gesture. "I think we should check out our surroundings," she ventured, "I've searched this part of the ship for survivors already." She didn't bring up the death of her crewmate, an incidence which Erica had missed.

"Alright," Johns said, turning towards the sunlight that filtered in. "You," he said then, gesturing to Sydney with his baton. The tall, lanky man seemed surprised. "Stay here and watch Riddick," he finished, "shout if he does anything suspicious." Sydney paled considerably at the request. Erica thought he looked as if he might even faint. The small troop marched out into the daylight then, leaving Erica and Sydney alone with the silent monster.

Erica cocked her head as she considered the British man. His eyes darted back and forth between herself and Riddick. "I need a drink," he declared, wiping his forehead with the back of a hand. With that, he disappeared into the wreckage. Erica sat silently watching Riddick. His eyes were bound and a strange bit-like device was wedged into his mouth. What was he thinking? Most likely planning his next move she imagined. And just exactly how did he plan on getting out of this one?

Sydney was back as quick as lightning, a bottle of alcohol gripped in one sweaty palm. He uncorked the top quickly and tipped it back, taking a long drag of the brownish liquid. "You don't need to stay you know," Erica said, breaking the tense silence. Sydney flinched at the sound of her voice. Skittish, she thought.

"But I cannot leave you alone with this...this creature," he exclaimed, though the idea certainly seemed to appeal to him.

Erica flashed a reassuring smile in his direction. She wanted some alone time with the mysterious man, she wanted to know where they had met before. She wanted to know what he knew about her past. "It's alright," she cooed, "what's he going to do anyway? He's chained up."

Sydney seemed to consider this for a moment, looking over the stone still figure with his thick arms bound behind him, securely cuffed about a sturdy steel beam. "I suppose you are right," he agreed, relief evident in his voice, "then if you don't mind, I think I'll join the others." Erica nodded. Sydney wasted no time. He practically flew out the jagged hole facing the outside world.

They were alone. To hell with John's orders. Erica took orders from no one. Erica gave orders....She blinked. Gave orders? How did she know that? If she was into the habit of giving orders then what had she been? A general of some sort? She shook her head to clear her thoughts. No matter what she had been, she didn't feel like upholding the law of silence placed upon the survivors by John. She would talk to Riddick if she felt like it. "Riddick," she said, quietly, as if contemplating his name, rolling it over her tongue. He didn't so much as flinch. "Who are you?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. Riddick, a murderer, a convict. But thats not all he was. He was something to her. Something to her past. But what? Ally, enemy...she had no idea. Still Riddick remained silent. Erica could feel her temperature rising. She wanted answers! "Who am I?!" she screamed at him in frustration. No response. Angrily, she slammed her fist into the metal floor, cursing at the pain it caused.

After a few moments of steaming and glaring vehemently in Riddick's direction she sighed. The sigh turned into a yawn and she realized just how drained she felt. Her eyelids began to droop, her head lolling to the side. She fought sleep for a time, but the effort was haphazard at best. As she slipped into unconsciousness she wondered at how easily she was able to slumber with Riddick so near. In her deep subconscious mind, her training told her it was an extremely foolish decision on her part, but somehow she felt at ease. Perhaps because he reminded her of herself, whatever she had been, in some way or another that she couldn't decipher.

_Crack. _The noise jarred Erica awake. Her eyes flew open all at once and her head swiveled around to pinpoint her shackled roomate. At the moment her eyes lit on the massive man that was Riddick his arms were high above his head, shackles sliding through a missing chunk of the support beam, his shoulder joints relocating themselves with a sickening pop. She barely had time to shake off her shock as the convict leaped forward, grasping a dangling rebar and using it to destroy his bonds and at the same time scooping up his goggles and ripping off the blindfold. Erica began to scramble back, but Riddick was much too quick, like a deadly animal. He was upon her before she could stagger to her feet, pinning her easily against the floor, a short and wickedly curved blade to her throat. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps as she stared up into his glowing eyes.

"You're coming with me," he declared, a statement that left no room for debate. Erica knew better than to resist, not with that blade in his hand. She was at an extreme disadvantage and she wasn't foolish enough to have her throat slit. Her gut twisting fear was rapidly forming into a ball of fiery anger in the pit of her stomach. _Hostage, _she thought, _I will be no such thing._ Swiftly, Riddick scooped her up, tossing her over his shoulder as if she was nothing. His blade was held firmly against the back of her thigh, poised to slice the major artery that lay within the muscles. For now, she **was **a hostage, whether she liked it or not. With a quick scan of the area, Riddick stepped out of the doorway, and into the desert.


	4. A Test?

Riddick seemed to know exactly where they were going as he tracked across the hot sands of the endless desert. It wasn't long before they arrived in what looked like an immense graveyard, littered with the bleached skeletons of some behemoth creatures. Lugging her over rolling dunes didn't seem to have phased the muscular man in the least, and he unceremoniously dumped her in the sand beneath the shade of a broken piece of ribcage. She stared up at him as he turned to watch something off in the distance. He seemed very intent upon something, and the way he was blantantly ignoring her caused her temperature to rise once more. For some reason, she was used to receiving full attention from others, and the idea that she had been someone of some sort of importance was working its way into her head.

"What now?" she demanded, in a rather scalding tone. Riddick was crouching close by her side, peering through the enormous carcasses. He whipped his head around so fast that she pulled back in surprise.

"We wait," he said harshly. Obviously, silence was what he wanted at the moment. She took a moment to recover from her shock before setting her mouth in a grimace of irritation.

As Riddick waited and watched, Alex began to nod off once more, her arms crossed over her chest and her legs straight out in front of her. This time, however, she forced a portion of her brain to remain on alert. If there was a chance for escape she would take it. Minutes passed idly before a few whispered words roused her.

"Damn Johns," the voice was mocking, "you aren't as smart as I gave you credit for." As Alex opened her eyes, she saw Riddick, and past his kneeling figure the silhouettes of two people moving through the animal cemetery. She instantly perked up, her senses alert. Moving fluidly, like a jungle cat, Riddick swiveled around and faced her, reaching for some rags he had swiped from the wreckage. He quickly bound her hands and feet and gagged her securely. She glared viciously at him the entire time. Before moving off he took a quick look at her grease-stained face and smirked. He must have found her anger amusing. She simply narrowed her eyes in response. He left quickly, and after he disappeared behind what must have been a pelvis she could no longer pick him out of the many bones. Stealth seemed to be one of his specialties.

Alex wasted no time in making her break for freedom. No doubt her captor would make his mission a swift one and she intended to be with Johns and Carolyn by that time. Struggling with her bonds was fruitless. Though they weren't painful, they were expertly knotted. In the back of her mind something clicked. Alex was an excellent escape artist, she remembered that much. Then Riddick must be an excellent kidnapper. She nearly found it funny. She grunted in frustration against the fabric in her mouth. It tasted like oil and dirt and perhaps a bit of blood. Plan B, she tought ruefully.

Leaning foward and rolling onto her stomach, Alex began to crawl with all the speed she could muster. She found that in the deep sand it wasn't too difficult and soon she was many feet from the comforting shade. The feet turned to yards and she began to think about which direction she should be heading. The young woman concentrated on the sounds about her. She was surprised to be able to make out the quiet voices of Johns and Carolyn, who must have been quite a distance from her, but even more surprising was that she was able to pick out every syllable they spoke. How was it that her hearing was so acute? No time to wonder. She began to wriggle along on her belly towards their position. Johns was questioning Carolyn about her dead crewmate. "What did he mean, 'don't touch that handle?' " The question didn't make sense to Alex, but she logged it away nonetheless. There would be time to think about it later.

She was making some definite progress when a restraining hand on her shoulder made her jump. She rolled over swiftly to stare up at the mysterious Riddick. How was it that he could sneak up on her so completely when she could hear the scuttling of a bug through the sand?

"You think you'd get away?" he asked, that bemused smirk once again upon his handsome face, "not a chance." Alex frowned deeply, gathering herself for an attack. She struck out swiftly with her bound feet, ignoring the fact that if she connected it would hurt like hell. But Riddick was prepared for it, backing away quickly just to dive down at her again, pinning her for the second time that day. She struggled visciously beneath him, his chuckling only fueling her rage. The man was easily holding her with the top half of his body sprawled across her own, an arm held tightly about her waist. "Easy," he advised her and she quieted, knowing her resistance was more or less futile. He stared at her for a moment more to ensure she wouldn't start up again. "We keep coming to this," he said, smiling, "perhaps you'd like to be cooperative." His sarcasm didn't help her attitude.

Alex didn't find the comment funny. Yet she couldn't fight the strong attraction that rose up again and wished more than anything else that he would release her. She didn't need it. It made her weak. Not only that, but she was too angry with him to be susceptible to his allure. He seemed to read her mind as her softening scowl reasserted itself defiantly and rose, dragging her to unsteady feet. He took out the wickedly curved blade he carried and sliced her bonds quickly, latching on to a wrist to ensure she followed. The gag he left. Johns and Carolyn must have still been close by.

They began to trek back across the desert, and Alex thought that it seemed a much longer journey than it had been the first time through. But then she hadn't been walking. Heading back to the ship was a move no one expected. At least thats what Alex figured Riddick was thinking. But who knew what was going on inside that bald head of his? She could feel her injured muscles weakening as Riddick kept on at a steady pace that was much too swift. She held out as long as she could, but after what seemed like hours of marching through the deep sand, she sunk to her knees.

Riddick stopped, realeasing her arm and staring down at her almost disapprovingly. He looked around. They were in the middle of nowhere. The sound of his deep voice pulled her out of her daze. "Give me a good reason why I shouldn't just leave you out here," he said. The demand didn't sound cruel, but as if he was simply bringing up a logical point. She stared up at him, squinting against the glare of the sun. She was no more use to him as a captive. Johns had followed like a complete fool. Now that they were far from the giant pile of bones, she could no longer be found be the survivors hunting the pair, therefore she could not cause Riddick to be found. "There is none," he said finally, unknotting her gag and turning away. With that, he strode off towards the horizon.

Alex forced herself into a standing position, trudging along behind. She was able to keep up for a good distance despite her aching body, but after a time she began to slow. Riddick was quickly increasing the distance between them and Alex found herself growing desperate. _Why? _she thought. _Hes a murderer_, her brain countered. _Of course, but I didn't think he would actually kill me, _she fought back. _He didn't actually kill you_, it said, _yet you still will die and it will have been his actions and intent that caused it. _"Riddick," she called out, reaching for the retreating figure. Her gaze lit on the numerous suns dancing around her. The effort was too much. She collapsed on the white hot sand, her breathing shallow. Before darkness took her she felt strong hands about her waste. As the world spun and she felt herself being lifted she realized what was happening. A glimpse of dark lenses and the feeling of a pair massively muscled arms told her that Riddick had changed his mind. Had it been a test? Had he wanted to see just how willful she was? That had to be it. She knew he wouldn't kill her. The thoughts faded as she fell into unconsciousness.

Thanks all for the reviews! Keep 'em coming guys, and let me know what you think should happen. I have a storyling plotted but it wouldn't hurt to throw some more things in there. And maybe I'll alter it depending on if you guys give me some good ideas to how the story progresses.

Hamburgler: I would love to be thrown over Riddick's shoulder too! (drools on self)


	5. Captured Once Again

Well, well, well... you finally get to see what Riddick is thinking. He is like a wild animal and you never know whats going on in that head of his. This time you will. And remember, he IS a beast (with a good side of course), so I decided to upgrade the rating for his use of language. They might not come out in this chapter but they will. I believe that if I even use the "F" word once that I better change it to R, just so the moderators won't kick my ass. Cuz people seem to be finicky about that sort of thing.

* * *

The girl felt light in his arms, her legs dangling loosely, her arms about his neck and her head resting against his broad chest. As soon as he had lifted her she had passed out, too weary to stay awake. _Damn, shes a fine piece of ass. _He couldn't help thinking it. It had been awhile since he had been in the company of a beautiful woman, what with being captured and all. That tumble in the sand had been quite enjoyable and had suceeded in awakening his inner beast.

_Erica_. The name flashed through his head. This wasn't their first encounter, though he knew full well she could not recall anything about him. Ocassionally a flash of recognition had crossed her face, but the flicker had been quickly lost and the ever present mask of confusion had re-asserted itself over her delicate features. She knew nothing of her past. He smirked. All the better for him. He would enjoy fucking with her head. That was one of his twisted pleasures. _Black to the core, _he thought ruefully.

It wasn't far to the crash site now, if he squinted he could make out the hulking form of twisted steel. He allowed a glance downward at the finely curved body sleeping limply against his steel-like bulk. _Damn, _he though once more, _I could have a hell of a good time with her. _Not only was she beautiful, but she was just as strong as he remembered. When he had first awakened from the impact with her sprawled across him, he had wondered if she had lost her spitfire attitude along with her memories. She had been frightened and confused and had worn those emotions like a second skin. In her previous life, she would have never been caught so off guard, and even if she had been afraid, she would never have shown it. It had only taken a short time for that wild animal to resurface, however, her red hot temper making an almost immediate appearance. He grinned at that. Her short fuse made it all the easier for him to rile her. He supposed that she had merely been out of her element. She was used to being in control and he knew that she was bothered by her lack of it. And that little test, it had proven to him that Erica was still the same girl, and he hoped it had proven something to herself. He needed her to remember how to be a fighter if he was going to take her from this planet alive.

There was something here and he could smell it. Danger lurked beneath the sand and its aura was palpatable. It made his senses even more on edge and his nerves were tense with anticipation. Erica needed to be attentive and she needed to get in touch with her warrior spirit. He knew what skills she possessed and it would make his job a whole hell of a lot easier if he didn't need to come to her rescue every five minutes. He wasn't planning on rescueing her out of the goodness of his heart. Hell if he'd rescue anyone for that reason. Riddick looked after Riddick. And he wasn't planning to "salvage" a nice piece of ass either. That girl had a bounty on her head so big that he would be a fool not to collect it. He didn't need to worry about getting involved with her contract either. The person who wanted her was a private party, no need to be getting mixed up with the authorities or mercs of any size, shape, or form. He'd been on the same planet as she when they had both been taken by Johns. He hadn't wasted any time getting to know the particulars of his fellow captive. And he'd be damned if he let her know his plans for her. He didn't need her to realize that he wanted her to come out of this in one piece, that took away some of his advantage.

As they neared the ship, Riddick crouched down behind a large chunk of debris. It looked like it could have been a bulkhead, but it was so mangled that he couldn't be sure. He set Erica down in the sand, careful not to upset the wound in her leg. _Fuck, _he though, _that little test couldn't have been good for that leg of hers._ He needed the thing to heal. No measure of skill could overcome the handicap of only having one useable leg. Reaching out, he unwrapped the bandages, investigating the bloody mess. The gouge in her thigh seemed to be shrinking, noticeably smaller than it had been only hours before. _Well fuck me sideways_. He had forgotten about her unusual healing powers. The gene for the amazing ability ran in her family, but it only surfaced once every five decades or so. Satisfied, he rebandaged the wound, allowing himself a bit of pleasure in the feel of her skin against his callused fingers.

* * *

Erica felt hands on her face. A light slap brought her to full consciousness. As she blinked away the black spots hovering before her eyes, the muscular form of Riddick came into focus. She sat up quickly, ignoring the vertigo it caused. Riddick was simply staring at her through his dark goggles, his face completely unreadable. A quick glance around told her that they had arrived at the crash site. She spotted Sydney off in the distance, seated in a lounge chair, she supposed he was supposed to be keeping watch. Riddick made no move nor did he say anything. His stony silence irked her.

"Why?" she demanded, dropping her voice quickly as she realized how loudly she was talking, "why didn't you leave me?" She searched his face to no avail.

"Maybe I was looking foward to another roll in the sand," he said, grinning wickedly. Erica blushed and frowned at the same time. She knew better than that. She was sure that it wasn't the reason, but she didn't feel like pushing it at the moment. Riddick looked out over the rubbage extending ahead of them. "Go," he said, serious once more. She hesitated. Something inside of her urged her to stay with him, but her logical mind told her that Johns was who she needed. Not Riddick. She needed to get her memory back. She nodded at him before rising from her position and heading towards the ship. When she looked back, he was gone.

She was nearly upon the make shift camp when Sydney finally spotted her. Apparently he had been soaking up the sun and drinking. She imagined it kept his mind off of their dire situation. He scrambled down from his perch when he saw her limping along. Her leg felt better and her gait was steadier, but she still hobbled noticeably. As he reached her position Erica stumbled slightly on a piece of rebar and Sydney reached out to steady her. She nearly toppled to the ground avoiding his touch. It wasn't that she disliked the man, she simply loathed being touched by a member of the opposite sex. Simply being too close to a man made her skin crawl. The thought of them touching her physically reached down to a deep seated fear which she attempted to conceal at all times.

Something had happened to her, but she didn't know what. She would wake up screaming in the middle of the night, flashes of the terrible ordeal intruding upon her dreams. Erica knew that she had been captured by some sort of political group, they had held her captive until Johns had arrived, swiping her from beneath their noses. He had told her about the contract and where he was taking her. Her instincts had screamed not to trust him, but she wanted out of that hell hole. They had done something to her there. She blinked the thoughts away and a puzzling question suddenly leaped into her mind. With Riddick it was different. She felt comfortable around him, even though he was a dangerous criminal who could have sliced her throat at any moment. He aroused her, made her feel things she fought to control. It didn't make sense.

The hours passed uneventfully from there. The boy ventured out into the light, taking a break from helping the miner woman do whatever they happened to be doing, and introduced himself as Jack. There was something different about him, but she couldn't quite place it. Perhaps it was that he seemed rather feminine to her. Erica took the time to work her muscles, attempting to devise a strategy for fighting with her injured thigh.

Her practice was interrupted rather violently as a gunshot rang out. She rushed around the side of the ship as quickly as she could, fully expecting Riddick to be on the other side. The sight that met her eyes, however, was not even remotely pleasant. A man lay face down in the sand, four stunned faces staring at the lifeless body in disbelief. No one seemed able to move or speak. Erica was the first to break the silence. "What happened?" she asked, her eyes lighting on the weapon in the miner man's hands. He had been away, doing God knows what. Suddenly he appears, and a man is dead.

"I...I though he was Riddick," the man stammered, mortified by what he had done. Jack turned away, looking frightened. Were those tears forming in his eyes? Erica wanted to soothe him but she resisted. Life was cruel, he had better learn it. Especially if he planned to live on his own.

The womam decided to take charge, shattering the atmosphere of disbelief and forcing her partner into action. "You should bury the body," she told him, "in fact we should bury all of the bodies we find. There are plenty." The man nodded in agreement, shaking himself out of his daze. He left again. To dig a mass grave he said. He drug the body along with him. Erica cringed in disgust. Skittish, she thought once again. They're all too skittish.

She had resumed her training exercises when she was interrupted once more. At first she heard screams. She paused to listen to the distant sound. Looking around, she wondered if anyone else noticed it. But there was no time to wonder as the terrified cries were followed by gunshots. The sharp cracks brought everyone running and they wasted little time reaching the source. Erica arrived first, dropping to a knee at the edge of a large pit that the miner had obviously been digging. Blood stained the sandy bowl as if the man had been torn into pieces and flung about. The air reeked of the metallic scent. She also noticed that there was what looked like a tunnel dug into the rear of the pit. It was decidely strange.

Erica suddenly realized she was being watched as the dead man's partner slid to a halt behind her. She knew who it was before she raised her head to look. Riddick. He was crouched much the same as she at the opposite end of the crater. Had he done this? She furrowed her brows in a questioning manner. He simply stared back with not a hint as to what had taken place. _He is a cold blooded killer _she reminded herself. Perhaps the man had attacked him, ensuring his fate. But she hadn't imagined he would be so brutal. He would have had to slice his victim into numerous pieces to create the blood spray that met her gaze. And where had the body gone? It looked more and more like the work of a pack of vicious animals than a murder.

A shriek broke out behind her with little warning. Erica covered her sensitive ears, cringing. The miner woman was flying past her in a blur of distraught fury. She leapt into the pit, paying little heed to the gore, and flung herself at Riddick. He was gone before she reached the other side, sprinting off towards the horizon with powerful strides. Erica forced her legs into an ambling run, a hopeless effort on her part. That woman was crazy to go after a convict like Riddick. As she watched, Riddick's flight was cut short by a booted foot that struck out from behind a weathered rock. He hit the dirt hard, rolling onto his back with a grunt. As quick as Riddick was, he wasn't quick enough to evade Johns as he descended upon him, ripping off his goggles with a single swipe. The burly man attempted to shield his delicate eyes from the blinding light of the blazing sun as he was pummeled by first Johns and then the miner woman.

Erica caught up to the angry pack quickly, tackling the woman and bringing her to the ground. "Stop!" she screamed, struggling to restrain the crazed individual. It did her no good to kick the shit out of Riddick. She held her firmly until the woman stilled, breaking into uncontrollable sobs. Erica would have liked to say it was alright, but it was quite the opposite.

They drug Riddick back to the ship where he was chained to a very unusual contraption, one which not even he could escape from. Johns was satisfied that he was secured effectively and decided he needed no one to watch him this time around. " I don't want you in here with that monster," he instructed her. She set her jaw defiantly at the command.

"I'll do whatever the hell I please," she seethed, despising him even more thoroughly.

"Now you listen to me.." he began, reaching out to grasp her forearm.

Erica reacted instantly, striking out with a fist and catching him squarely in the chin. He staggered back, surprised. Johns rubbed his face where she had connected, staring at her. He growled then in anger. "Don't you mess with me missy, you don't know who you're dealing with." He attempted to grab her once more, this time more forcefully, and once again she reacted violently.

"Like hell I don't," she spat, attempting a spinning kick. It failed as her treacherous leg gave out on her and she crumpled foward into the man she had been assaulting. He caught her, squeezing her upper arms harshly. "Don't you touch me you asshole!" she screamed, attempting to bite him. He realeased her quickly, barely managing to save his arm from a set of teeth marks.

"Watch yourself," he warned, stalking out of the room in a huff. Erica stared after him, setting her face in an ugly grimace of hate. Riddick chuckled deeply from his chained position, his glowing eyes shut even in the dimness of the interior.

"Physical contact ain't your thing, is it princess?" he quipped, his chains rattling as he flexed his muscles experimentally.

"No, its not," she replied, malice for Johns tinging her voice. She noted his use of the term princess with distaste. She didn't like that title. Her anger cooled from a boil to a simmer and subsided all together as she considered Riddick. "Did you do it?" she asked him, stepping closer. He knew that she was refering to the recent death.

"Maybe I did," he replied, "what then?" He was starting to play games with her and she knew it.

"I don't think you did," she said, ignoring the question. "It looked more like a bunch of animals ripped that man to pieces." She was pacing ever closer to the dangerous man.

"You've got worse things than me to worry about," he commented, and Erica found his deep voice exceptionally seductive.

"Like what?" she asked, genuinely interested. She had her hunches, but she wanted to see how they compared to his.

"Closer," he said, lowering his voice so that she couldn't help but do as he commanded, simply to hear him speak. She stopped a foot or so before him. She still believed that he wouldn't hurt her, but that didn't keep her from not trusting him. That would have been a foolish thing to do. "Closer," he said again, his eyes still closed. Erica stepped forward until she was inches from the man who was making her heart pound in her chest and her temperature rise to nearly unbearable levels.

There was silence for a moment as she leaned towards him and he simply sat in his contraption which appeared somewhat like a sadistic throne. Faster than she could blink he lurched forward, chains creating a racket against the metal as they slipped along it. His eerie eyes were open and staring into hers, his face so close to her own that she could feel his warm breath on her cheeks. Surprised, Erica couldn't do so much as breathe, desire flooding her body. Riddick's eyes moved over her face and down to her full lips. She knew what he intended then and moved to pull back. The cat-like man wouldn't allow it however, pressing his face quickly against her own, his lips covering her mouth. It was possibly the best mouth to mouth experience she had ever had. Erica couldn't help but revel in the kiss as he teased with his tongue and then dove into it passionately, causing her to moan slightly. When he pulled back she simply stood their dazedly, swaying on her feet.

"Why...why'd you do that?" she managed to stutter.

"Its been awhile, being captured and all ," that smug smile was plastered on his face, glowing eyes seeming to pulse with pleasure.

Erica fought out of her stupor, that familiar feeling of rage spreading through her like fire. "How dare you," she forced out of clenched teeth. "I won't be some fix for your sexual pleasure." With that she stormed out, conflicting emotions swirling inside her.

* * *

Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. Her name is Erica not Alex. I realized I changed her name after the first chapter on accident. Lol. 


	6. Darkness

_How dare he!_ Erica seethed, her skin hot and flushed, her heart beating at about a million miles per minute. _Why that self-absorbed, macho, horny, ass! _ Her anger threatened to get the better of her. She didn't appreciate being taken advantage of. But her strong attraction to the muscular man fought valiantly against her fury. Why did he have to be so utterly desirable! She snorted in frustration as she stomped through the sand in search of the other survivors, her mood definitely not favorable.

She decided to take some time to cool her heels before scouting out her fellow ship wreck victims. When she finally did venture out to join them, they were gathered around the large crater the miner man had been in the process of digging. They were searching for his body. Carolyn was down on her hands and knees peering into what appeared to a tunnel at the base of the pit.

"Is it even possible that Riddick stuffed him in that tiny tunnel?" Sydney was asking, keeping a good distance from the splatter of blood and gore that decorated the sand.

"Its beginning to look to me like Riddick wasn't the one who did this," Carolyn commented, squinting into the darkness.

"I wouldn't put it past the bastard," Johns said, staring down at their captain. Everyone seemed to be looking to Johns and Carolyn for leadership.

"He will pay for what he has done," the miner woman interjected, her teeth clenched and her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"I vote someone goes in and looks for our departed comrade," Erica piped up, and all eyes turned upon her, as if they hadn't noticed her presence until that very moment.

Carolyn nodded, "Good plan. If it wasn't Riddick then we have something else to worry about out here," she looked around her in question, "Any volunteers?" There was silence all the way around the circle. Erica looked from one person to another and sighed, raising a hand.

"Are you sure you want to do this Erica?" Johns asked in what seemed to be concern, "it could be dangerous and you are wounded." Erica knew full well that Johns was full of shit. All he cared about was his pay day.

"I'm a big girl Johns," she said as she expertly snatched a flashlight from his belt, "I can handle myself." His gaze hardened but he didn't say a word.

A harness was handed to her from some direction or another, she wasn't sure. She was feeling a bit nervous at this point, her stomach clenching. Perhaps diving into a den of monsters wasn't a bright idea. She hardened her features. They must know their enemy, always know your enemy. One of the key things to remember in a war. A war? She brushed it aside. Slithering down on her belly, she began the blood slickened crawl into the tunnel.

As she went deeper into the ground, the tunnel widened and became a cavern. It was dank and gloomy inside, with large boulders strewn about. A stray shaft of light bit through the sandy crust of the earth to light upon a large rock jutting towards it, as if in a futile attempt to escape. Erica proceeded cautiously into the interior, swinging her flashlight here and there to investigate the dusty floor. Bones littered the ground and crunched beneath her booted feet as she walked.

Suddenly, a strange scuttling noise resonated through her sensitive ears and she spun, the small beam of light she carried whipping about as if it had a life of its own. Nothing. Utter silence reigned for a minute's time, Erica's own breath constricted as she held it in. The tense atmosphere was broken with an inhuman screech, a hungry sounding cry. It was followed by more scuttling, this time what seemed like hundreds of cavern dwelling creatures rushing towards her.

As Erica swung about in an arch, her roving beam caught upon the scaly tail of some winged creature as it slithered behind a large boulder. It made an unearthly cry as the beam of light touched its flesh, a hissing noise indicating that the skin had been seared.

That was enough for Erica. As the scitterings turned into a buzz of thousands of angry, hungry creatures, she ran. Her progress was impeded, however, as she tripped headlong across something laying amidst the bones. Erica lifted herself from the floor, spitting dirt, and craned her head around. Half of a man's leg lay beneath her foot, a gnawed bone protruding from the flesh. She jerked away from it instantly, scrambling up quickly and lunging at the giant boulder bathed in sunlight.

She was atop the rock before she could think, instinct taking over. The tunnel was just wide enough for her to force herself into, using her elbows and knees to drag her body upwards towards the open air of day. Her mental state was fixed on survival, her muscles pumping a rush of adrenaline through her body. Suddenly, her line drew taught and she nearly lost her grip on the rocky walls of the shaft. _Damn it, _she cursed. It was snagged.

Erica jerked roughly on the line with one hand and the rope pulled free. She lost no time in beginning her upward climb once more. Her body was blocking the light which would have filtered into the cave, and she could hear the creatures squealing and stampeding about in a frenzy below her. With no warning, a hard jerk dragged her back towards certain death with such severity that she was forced to claw viciously at the packed dirt. They were trying to pull her back to safety from the opposite end. _Damn you idiots! _she screamed in her head.

Erica scrambled to release the clasp from her belt, to unbuckle the harness, but in the cramped space she couldn't manage to slip her arm down to reach her waist. She held tightly in the tunnel with her back pressed against the rock, her muscles quivering with exertion. She began to become desperate. There was no way she could hold out much longer against the steady pull. _Riddick!_ for some reason he was all she could think of in her terror. His presence, scent, the feel of his iron muscles, they filled her mind, her senses. It almost seemed like she could feel him, reach out and touch him. There was a pulsing beat somewhere deep inside her that began to grow, the sound of chains being clanged harshly against a metal surface resonating in her mind.

In a sudden rush, that animal strength filled her body, flowing through her like a jolt of electricity. She lunged upwards with all of her might, progressing steadily against the weight of her fellow survivors. Wild anger reddened her vision, her thoughts the fury of a cornered beast. Her eyes glowed brilliantly in the gloom, unbeknownst to her, and a deep growl emmited from somewhere deep in her chest as she tensed herself and pushed up into the sunshine, with a tremendous power she didn't know she possessed.

She heard her name as she sat panting on the sand, and the heavy weight pulling at her back died suddenly. The sound of running feet met her ears, yet she ignored it. "Are you OK?" it was Jack. Erica managed to shake off the last reminants of the animal that clouded her mind. She blinked her eyes and looked up.

"Yes," she said, sounding a bit distracted. Johns and Carolyn ran over, kicking up sand as they went. Erica glared at the bounty hunter. They both stared at her expectantly.

"Well," Johns said, "whats down there?"

Erica's scowl deepend. "I nearly got eaten down there, no thanks to you three, and you're expecting me to just start blabbing?"

Carolyn managed to look ashamed, her eager expression disappearing. Johns simply got angry. "Who cares? You're alive right? We need to know what you found."

Erica wasn't too happy to divulge the information, but she supposed she would have to spill it. She told them about the monsters and about the foot. The miner woman turned away in anguish at this snippet. There was silence for a few moments as each contemplated what this meant and Erica took the time to inhale a few deep breaths. What had happened down there? It was as if Riddick had lent her his massive strength. She could have sworn she heard him in that dark cavern, pounding out stern encouragement as he worked against his bonds. Her reverie was broken by Carolyn's voice.

"We need Riddick," she said, and her tone told Erica that there was no arguing with the decision. It didn't stop Johns from protesting.

"Don't be stupid Carolyn," he snapped immediately, "hes better off tied up. You know what he could do to each and every one of us."

Erica scowled at him. She was possitive that they needed Riddick. Those creatures were dangerous and the monster caged amongst the wreckage was the only thing formidable enough to keep them safe. Fight fire with fire. "Let him go Johns," she said, her voice steely and dripping with venom. There was something there that caused a shadow of fear to pass over the bounty hunter's face. Damn if she didn't sound like a lethal weapon herself. That surging energy still pumped in her blood and allowed her temper to rest at a comfortable simmer. No one spoke, and every single one of the survivors were staring incredulously. Sydney backed off. Would they fear her too? She didn't really care. "Believe me, we'll need him before this is over. Hes your only chance against those devils. Him. And me."

The tension hung suspended before them until Sydney nervously cleared his throat. "She...she is right you know." He blanched as Johns turned a cold gaze on him. "As much as I hate to admit it, she is right."

"Hes a weapon," the miner woman added, seeming to forget her anenimity towards the man, now that she knew he hadn't killed her friend.

"Well, I see I'm outnumbered," Johns said dryly after a pause, obviously unhappy. "And how do you suggest we get him to cooperate?"


End file.
